


The Desk

by CynCyr-Wright (CynCyrWright)



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Hand Jobs, M/M, PWP, office desk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 06:23:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9535682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CynCyrWright/pseuds/CynCyr-Wright
Summary: Taking a deep breath, Mycroft should have known that after this morning's activities, showing up at New Scotland Yard would put him in this position.





	

Taking a deep breath, Mycroft should have known that after this morning's activities, showing up at New Scotland Yard would put him in this position. He hadn't seen Greg in almost a week, not until he'd shown up at the house this morning and his desire for the graying Detective Inspector overrode everything else in him. So he had walked into Greg's office, hoping to take him out for lunch. Instead, they were in the middle of one of the most intense make out sessions they've ever had before. Groaning, Mycroft pulled Greg closer, gasping as he was picked up and placed on the desk behind him.

“Jesus, Myc, if this is what you had planned for lunch...” Greg panted against the soft, swollen lips pressed against his. “I very much fucking approve.”

“It is not, Gregory.” Mycroft groaned as Greg pressed against him. He could feel the hard shape of him through his slacks and his hips stuttered up. “B-but I am not adverse to the change of plans.” He usually wasn't one for quickie's but today, he would make an exception. “Gregory, the door.” He glanced over at the closed door, wondering how long they had before someone interrupted them.

“It's locked.” Greg mumbled. “Locked it once you walked in, had the blinds drawn when you said you were on your way. Everyone thinks I left.” Greg whispered, his face was flushed as he fumbled with the buttons on Mycroft's jacket. “Christ, My, why in the hell do you have so many layers on?”

Mycroft, never one to do anything half way, silently agreed with Greg. “It is proper attire for work, Gregory.” He let out a small, breathless moan as Greg popped the last two buttons on his vest.

“Yeah, well, right now it's one layer to damn many.” Greg looked up into the flushed face of his lover, couldn't help the soft smile curving his lips. “I've missed you, Myc.”

Mycroft let out a shuddering breath, swallowing slowly as he looked at Greg. “As I have missed you, Gregory.” He didn't stop Greg from pulling him forward, simply wrapped his legs loosely around him and let himself be arranged to Greg's satisfaction. “You are certain...”

“As long as you're not to loud no one will know what we're doing.” Greg breathed against Mycroft's neck. He leaned forward and bit down on the pale collar bone beneath his shirt. Grateful at having been able to get it and the vest undone without incident. “Think we can do that?”

Mycroft nodded as he tried to hold back a moan. Greg's hand was now cupped over his clothed erection and he would admit to enjoying the feeling. He was aware that it could be over faster than either of them wanted but it was ok for now. They would have more time later. Right now, he had an immediate concern and the man in front of him was more than willing to address it.

Greg undid Mycroft's slacks, more than willing to wait until they got home tonight. He also knew that Mycroft wouldn't have come here if he _could_ wait. Greg grinned down at the flushed man looking up at him. Leaning forward, he gave him a gentle kiss, moaning his pleasure at the way Mycroft all but melted against him. “I've been neglecting you, haven't I?” Greg slid a hand beneath the open slacks, making sure to move the waist band of his pants until he was touching bare skin.”Mmmm, well, someone is definitely happy to see me.”

Mycroft bit back the groan that rose in his throat. Greg was going to draw this out and it was going to be hell remaining silent. Swallowing, Mycroft looked up into dark passion glazed eyes. “Gregory, the time...” He broke of at the first touch to his throbbing erection. Letting his head fall back, Mycroft fought back the moan that threatened to leave him.

“I know, christ, we should have...” Greg growled in frustration. He knew they probably should have left and gone to the nearest hotel but he hadn't been able to think past anything other than the fact that Mycroft was standing _right here, right now_. “This will have to be quick and as clean as possible.” Greg reached over into one of the side drawers of his desk, looking for the box of tissue and their small bottle of lube. “I'll make it up to you tonight?”

Mycroft gave Greg a shy smile. “Of course, Gregory, I understand completely.” He whispered, eyes drifting closed at the feel of the cool air on his heated flesh. He forced back a groan as he felt a slick hand wrap around him, hissing in pleasure as he felt Greg's hard length pressed against his. Thrusting up in small, abortive thrusts, Mycroft panted against Greg's neck. “Gregory...”

Greg growled low, his hand tightened around them as he stroked them both in long, sure strokes. “Real quick, Myc, I'll make it up tonight.” Greg repeated hoarsely. He pressed closer, not letting up on the rhythm of his hand or the pressure. Pressing kisses along the pale clavicle in front of him, Greg sucked in a harsh breath as he felt the familiar curling heat start in the bottom of his stomach. He pulled Mycroft closer, groaning as slim legs wrapped around his waist.

Mycroft wrapped his arms around Greg's shoulder's, his head dropping back as pleasure raced through him. He was beyond trying to remain still as both he and Greg raced towards a finish that had started earlier that morning. Mycroft moaned as Greg's fist tightened around them, their movements jerky.

“God, the way you sound.” Greg breathed. He knew they were both close and giving Mycroft a small nip on the neck, Greg leaned forward and whispered softly against his ear.

Mycroft stiffened, his body lighting up with the simple phrase. Shivering as the words seemed to move over him in a caress. “Je t'aime, mon mari.” He repeated softly, gasping as Greg jerked him forward, the edge of the desk pressing into the back of his hips. Gripping the white shirt beneath his hands, Mycroft moaned Greg's name, uncaring if they were heard or not.

Greg grinned with pleasure as he watched Mycroft through narrowed eyes. He sighed in relief at the tremors that moved through his partner. Loving the way his legs shook around his waist. “Come on sweetheart, we can go slow tonight.” Greg groaned, sure he was going to finish before Mycroft. 

Neither said anything else, to focused on the pleasure racing along their nerves. They clung to each other, gasping as they came, Greg's mouth pressed against Mycroft's in a bruising kiss. He swallowed the moan that rose up from the pale throat, replacing the sound with a moan of his own. 

“G-gregory...” Mycroft whispered breathlessly. His head swam with his release, his mind filled with nothing but thoughts of the man holding him. “Tonight?”

Greg grunted by way of answer, panting in pleasure. “Y-yeah, I'll make sure to leave early.” He answered softly. Pulling back, he gave the man in front of him a crooked smile. “Or, we could just take the rest of the day off.”

Mycroft tried to look as thoughtful as his flushed face would allow, giving Greg a small smile. “I find that I am in agreement with the idea.” He smiled at the grin Greg gave him, warmth radiating through out his chest. He sucked in a quick breath as Greg leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss against his lips. “Say it again Gregory, please, for me?”

Greg grinned as he felt his face heat. “Je t'aime, mon mari.” His french wasn't perfect but he'd been working on it ever since he'd found out they were taking a trip to Marseille. 

Mycroft let his eyes drift close at the words, smiling as Greg cleaned them up as best he could. “Your practice has paid off, Gregory.” He smiled at the man before him, grateful for having come by the office for lunch.

Greg chuckled as he helped Mycroft adjust his clothing, helping him stand on shaky legs. “Well, I've been working on it. Ready for this trip you have planned for us.” He raised Mycroft's left hand and pressed a kiss against the single band around his third finger. “I'm never going to be able to look at my desk with out seeing you on it.”

Mycroft flushed with pleasure, glancing down at the oak wood desk behind him. “This one can be replaced with a new one if that is what you wish.” He adjusted his vest and tie, his heart slowing its frantic pace. “we can always have it moved to the house, if that would be better.”

Greg grinned, “You'd love that wouldn't you? My desk in your office, knowing what we'd just done on it.” He chuckled at the rosy tint to Mycroft's cheeks. “Yeah, have it sent to the house, I have a few ideas for it now.”

Mycroft nodded as he walked over to the chair where his coat lay. “It will be done today.” He picked up his coat and umbrella, turning back to face Greg with a small smile. “I will meet you at home in twenty minutes?”

Greg nodded as he held the ice gray gaze in front of him. “Twenty minutes or less.”

Mycroft gave him a short nod, turning the knob on the door he pulled it open and peered out into the hallway. He looked back once, a wicked grin curving his lips. “Anything you do not wish brought to the house should be left here before you leave, Anthea will have your new desk sent before the end of the day.”

Greg looked at Mycroft in surprise as he turned and left as silently as he'd come. It wasn't until a knock sounded on the door that he jerked in surprise. Looking at the two men standing there, he frowned. “Can I hep you two blokes?”

“Uh, y-yes sir, we were sent to pick up a desk?”

Greg let out a loud, long laugh as he grabbed his wallet, cell, and keys. “Well, here it is, make sure you don't touch anything you shouldn't or I'll throw you in a cell downstairs.” He walked out of the office, making sure to have Donovan oversee the movers. By the time he'd been able to hail a taxi and make it back to the house, his old desk was already waiting with a surprise on the top.

 


End file.
